He wanted to show them off and get my opinion, I think." "And did you give him one ?" she asked.

"I suppose not!" "He went away with his teeth shut--" and Mr.Carlyon's smile deepened as he stroked his white beard.
Halcyone laughed.

She seldom asked questions herself.

If the Professor wished to tell her anything about the ladies he would do so--she was dying to hear! Presently a set of disjointed sentences flowed from her master's lips between his puffs of smoke.
"Girl--worth something--showy--honest--sure of herself--clever--pretty--on her own roots--not a graft." "Girl"-- who was the girl?
Halcyone wondered.

But Cheiron continued his laconic utterances.
"Woman--beautiful--determined--thick--roots of the commonest--grafting of the best--octopean, tenacious--dangerous--my poor devil of a John!" "And did you give the apple to either, Cheiron ?" Halcyone asked with a gleam of fine humor in her wise eyes.